


Rite by Right

by snarechan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Amicitia Week 2018, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Tattoos, Traditions, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 19:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18350198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: During the events in Comrades, Iris thinks she’s just working to keep it together, when she’s doing so much more than that.





	Rite by Right

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Amicitia Week (2018), Day One: Amicitia tattoos. This was posted during the original run of the event, but I wanted to edit it proper before archiving it here on AO3. 
> 
> Beta Read by Glyphenthusiast (GoreCorset/CorsetJinx). My thanks for the assist!

"Hey."

Iris paused halfway through washing her arms to glance over her shoulder. Her attention had been consumed by the need to tidy herself, to make sure the scratches and bruises covering them wouldn’t be worsened. Most of the blood stemmed from her cracked knuckles though. She'd ducked inside the Leville Hotel to clean the wounds and have a moment of privacy for herself.

A daemon had breached the Lestallum blockade. It was some strange, new creature with the capability of flight. Those inside the city limits had attacked the monster on sight, clipping one of its wings, but it crash-landed inside their borders regardless of their best efforts.

Every able bodied person not on a hunt, herself included, had fought back. During the incident Iris hadn't any weapons of her own, thus she resorted to whatever she had. Her fists turned out to be her only option. Given that the daemon was already hurt it didn't last long, but it’s toughened, spiky hide had left a lingering impression.

"Hey yourself!" She spotted Gladiolus standing in the doorway, he the one to greet her. Iris welcomed him in return. She resumed washing her hands, checking the cuts for debris and that the flow of blood was clear before shutting off the tap. Grabbing a tattered towel, Iris twisted her limbs different ways to inspect the lacerations better as she dried off. "When did you get in?"

"Recently. I was already tracking that _thing_ as clear back as the Saxham Outpost. I wasn't lagging too far behind, but still. I was no competition for those giant fuck-off wings it was sporting." Gladiolus stepped inside the room. He set a small, wooden case on the 'examination table'. It was actually a spare popup bed that the hotel used to provide at guest requests, but had since been repurposed. "I heard you beat me to it by landing the finishing blow? Let me see."

"Mm. You could say that." It was more like Cor had the daemon in a chokehold and her punch just so happened to snap its neck. Nobody was complaining, especially her. She was just relieved the immediate threat was dealt with and everyone inside of Lestallum was safe for now.

Iris held out her hands, palms flat toward the ground. Her brother took both of them in his, eyes flitting across the damaged areas of skin before he nodded. Gladiolus said, "Not bad. These shouldn't scar if we take care of'em properly."

"Aw, really? That's too bad, I was hoping to have a couple like yours to show off," she said. Taking the hint, Iris scooted the package aside and hopped up onto the exam table. Gladiolus was quiet as he retrieved some gauze and ointment from the cupboard. He tended to the spots that were bleeding with cream, the stuff itself cool to the touch; but also stinging a little bit. When the silence got to her, she said, "I was just kidding. I don't actually want to be a patchwork quilt, like _somebody else_ I know."

"Heh. Well, you'll definitely have some nice calluses after this, so don't get too excited." Her brother sounded distracted while he applied a generous amount of salve. He wrapped the left side first, starting at her forearm and moving toward her wrist. It didn't escape her notice that he didn't play into her teasing.

"What's with you, then? You weren't _worried_ about me, were you? That would be too sweet of you." Iris had been swinging her legs while he worked and she nudged Gladiolus with a booted toe. When he refrained from joking again, Iris sobered and asked, "Seriously, are you okay? That monster didn't get to you too, did it?"

"Nah. Like I said, I never caught up with it." Gladiolus tied off the gauze after completely covering her hand partly up to her fingers. She carefully clenched and unclenched her left hand to test the range of movement. Iris offered her other arm when she deemed the first satisfactory. She'd almost resigned herself to not receiving a real answer until Gladiolus asked, "You remember when I got my tattoo, right?"

"Oh yeah! You went and…what did you do, exactly?"

Gladiolus glowered at her in annoyance. "You've got to be kidding me. I challenged _everyone_ to gladiatorial combat! How can you forget that?"

"Huh."

"Are you telling me you really don't remember? I fought my way through the whole Lucian guard!" It was her turn to stare; at Iris' blank expression he scoffed. "Your classmates, members of the Council…? The whole of Insomnia was after me. There was even a barista that wanted to usurp me!"

"Guess I was on my phone most of the time."

Which wasn't _totally_ true.

Now that she knew what part Gladiolus was referring to, Iris recalled the instance in which their father used to determine her brother's readiness to receive the ceremonial eagle. The Amicitia tattoo was an integral part of their status, although not separate from the honor of guarding Lucian royalty. It was up to the head Shield to determine when the eldest child was officially ready to assume their role.

In her brother's case, it was after a persistent reporter questioned his abilities on live television. They were harassing Noctis after school, but Gladiolus would have none of it. The journalist had turned on him instead, and in an _impulsive, pigheaded, heat-of-the-moment_ decision Gladiolus issued a standing challenge to anyone who thought he or she had the potential to do his duty better.

He was hounded for _weeks_.

Practically all the soldiers in the Crownsguard, Kingsglaive, and Citadel security lined up to have a go at him. Some of Iris' friends even showed up at the house to pester Gladiolus, and it seemed as if wherever she went someone was talking about the opportunity at prestige. Iris had to admit, the barista from her brother's preferred juice bar had been one of her favorites. The woman had thrown Gladiolus' drink in his face as a diversionary tactic and there had even been bodies slammed onto tables.

The ordeal had accumulated into a single event. It was decided that anyone left that wanted to replace him as Noctis' guardian had to do so in a final showdown at his royal highness' Insomnia Stadium. She'd watched from the sports stands. Iris hadn't actually been distracted by her phone, but gripping it like a stress ball as Gladiolus' bouts got bloodier.

But he'd obviously come out victorious, with a broken nose that never did set right afterwards and grass stains all over him from the soccer field. Gladiolus was there for Noctis and he was still here to this day. Their father must have seen that and predicted his dedication because he granted Gladiolus the tattoo. Her brother's training to replace him began in earnest.

"At least dad was impressed by your endurance or something, huh?" she mused.

"More like I learned my lesson," he said, chagrined.

"Oh?"

"If you invite danger, then danger will answer."

"Seems like danger does that anyway, whether or not you're asking for it." Iris looked down at Gladiolus' handiwork. He'd made enough progress that her other hand was covered, too. "So you gonna tell me why you're bringing this up all of a sudden?"

"I got you a present. It's why I was in Saxham – to meet up with a guy and make a trade with him. His set isn't made of bone, like dad's were, but…"

He didn't wait for her to inquire more. Gladiolus set her hand in her lap and reached for the box he'd brought with him earlier. It was long and thin, with a lopsided latch on the front. He popped the lock and went to open it, but hesitated at the last second.

"Dad knew when I was prepared to assume the right of Shieldom. That choice now lies with me, to bestow upon the next in line. It's…been three years since Noct…" At the mention of their friend, Iris' face crumpled a little. She understood why her brother couldn't bring himself to voice what had happened to their liege, or what that might mean for him. Gladiolus' resolve strengthened, however, and he continued with, "I have no blood kin of my own. Should I fall before Noct returns, then there's only one other I trust to get the job done."

Iris sucked in a breath and stared wide-eyed as Gladiolus flipped the lid of the case. Inside, resting on the silk lining, were bottles of dark ink. He picked up a metal rod situated below the jars. On one end were fine-tipped needles. Gladiolus held it up to her, but she understood what it was and what the item represented without needing to examine it too closely.

"Our father trained me in this art, in anticipation of passing on our legacy when I decided the time was right. The way you handled yourself today has proven to me that you can take on anything that comes our way. I'm willing to pass this on and train you, should you accept the responsibility," he explained.

Tears threatened to well up in her eyes. Iris was touched beyond measure by his offer, but she had to admit, "I didn't do anything, not… _really_. I had help from Cor and everyone else here at Lestallum. This honor, it's… I'm not…"

Gladiolus didn't let go of the carving tool, but he freed up a hand to take one of hers in his. "Sorry kiddo, it's not your call. It's mine, and I say you've earned it. I just need a 'yes' or a 'no' answer."

"But how can you think that? You didn't see—" She hiccupped, losing her ability to speak. Despite the pain, her hands clenched into fists as she recollected the fear the daemon evoked when it swooped into their home and wreaked havoc. How terrifying and _massive_ the creature was, compared to some of their strongest warriors. Iris had been filled with such dread, not bravery, when she was spurred into action.

"I heard the accounts on my way to meeting up with you. The way Talcott tells it, you're a hero. You stepped in front of him to protect without a moment's thought and helped save everyone in this settlement. But I didn't need to hear him tell me that to _know_. Weren't you listening before?"

Head still bowed, Iris shook her head. Gladiolus hunched lower, catching her eyes again as he raised their shared hands. He showcased the white linen encasing her limb.

"Lookit. I wasn't meant to be Shield because I have a big mouth and fought in droves. _Anyone_ can do that. It was the drive, the sheer _emotion_ , at the core that makes us so formidable," he said, voice having gone soft with how tender he was being. "Anyone willing to aid those in need with their _bare goddamn hands_ embodies the spirit of an Amicitia. Our family should feel so honored to have you be a part of it. And if the need arises, I'll rest easy knowing that punkass, Noct, will be in the best pair in all of Lucis. Trust me when I say he'd back me up right now if he could.

"So what say you?"

Iris threw her arms around her brother's neck. The angle was awkward with her injuries and their height difference, but Gladiolus placed an arm around her back for support. Slowly, she nodded into his hair and said, "Yes! When can we start? Is right now good?"

He chuckled, the sound a little wet. Iris didn't call him on it since she was feeling a tad soppy as well. "See? Told you that you're all set. Yeah, we can start, but I have to warn you that the outline must be done in one sitting."

Gladiolus didn't bother to inquire if she'd changed her mind; Iris would have told him that her determination hadn't wavered with the new information, anyway. Iris removed her over shirt, but left on her bralette since she was able to hold it in place. In the time it took her to lay down, Gladiolus had retrieved a stool from the corner to sit on. As he organized everything and prepped his inking tool, her brother recited, "I'm gonna tell you a tale. It dates back to the beginning of our ancestry. And like the ceremonial tattoo I am about to give you, this tale will end when I'm finished marking you."

"I didn't know listening to you yammer for hours was going to be a part of this deal," Iris sniped.

"You'll enjoy this story, don't worry." He cleansed her skin with a sterile wipe from the first aid kit. Lining up the carver near her collarbone – where the head of the eagle was on her brother, and their father before them, and all the Amicitias previously – Gladiolus did as he promised. "Now, as all things, we start at the heart…"

Iris closed her eyes, listening intently despite her earlier aside. As Gladiolus made the first mark she committed his words to memory.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [writing blog on Tumblr](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/) for more content or [come say hi to me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/snaurus)!


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